


Illusion

by real__kazekage



Series: Forbidden Love [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Illusions, Lyrium Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23748310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/real__kazekage/pseuds/real__kazekage
Summary: Cullen is having lyrium withdrawal and hallucinates.*based off Azula's breakdown in Avatar: Last Airbender
Relationships: Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Forbidden Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489298
Kudos: 4





	Illusion

_"I cannot keep anything of you in here._   
_These walls cannot hold the things I cannot steer._   
_I cannot keep throwing out all of my years._   
_Is anything worth memories made up of tears?"_   
_-Paper and Roses, Born in Winter_

The withdraw of lyrium is worse than he ever thought possible. His upper loft was well lit with many candles on the floor and on the edge of his bed. Darkness is when the memories of being tortured return to him. The shadows in the darkness always appear to be the demons that have haunted him his entire life. Cullen was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands and a pool of sweat collected at his feet on the wooden floor. His breathing was growing shorter by the moment as the headache ran across his forehead. Marker, this is horrible. He had told Cassandra to watch him, but now he wished he never did. He could always take it in secret and no one would know the difference. He will not give less to the Inquisition than he did the Chantry. He should be taking it: he should be taking it! He should be taking lyrium!

He stood up and walked toward the full mirror in the corner of his room. His mirror stood nearly as tall as him and to the side was a small table with a brush, silver goblet, and a dagger. He ran his hand down his sweating face and shook his hands to rid of the sweat. His bare chest heaved up and down as he tried to control the addiction. He stared at himself in the mirror. His honey colored hues are darker than usual and his pupil are large despite a lack of darkness in the room. His hand touched his side to only feel himself shaking from the withdrawal. A groan escaped his lips as he leaned against the wall beside the mirror.

**He should be taking it!**

His fingers curled into his palm and he punched the wall beside his head. He punched again and again until he felt liquid fall down his fingers and onto the floor. He looked at his fist to see blood falling from his knuckles. Marker, he is a mess. He closed his eyes as he rested his head against the glass of the mirror finding comfort in the coolness of the glass.

He just needs to breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

"Oh Cullen," he opened his eyes quickly at the loveliest sound he has ever heard in his life. He knows that voice but it is impossible for her to be here. "look what lyrium has done to you."

He looked into the mirror and saw her behind him a few feet away. Marker, is he going crazy? It was Azura Amell, the only woman he loved with every fiber of his entire being. Yes, it was young love but he has never felt the same for any other woman in his entire life. He tried to move on, but could never find someone like her or someone who could replace her. No one was as special as her. He was willingly to get in trouble with the Order to be with her even if that meant being in secret. He loved her so heartrendingly strong that perhaps that is why he has never moved on from his first love: her.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered. Her flowing black locks laid around her shoulders and nearly touched her waist. She was wearing the same robe she worn when she freed the circle mages from themselves, and the day he cursed at her. That beautiful dark blue robe that he can never forget. Her moonlit colored hues stared at him from behind his back.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered to her, keeping his gaze on her through the mirror's reflection.

She chuckled a little and the sound rang through his head like the Chantry's bells before service. "I wanted to see how the commander of the famous Inquisition was doing." She paused and her head turned slightly to the side. "However, I can see you aren't well."

He sighed softly and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I haven't been well since you left the circle."

"I know," she whispered to him and her head lowered. "I didn't want to leave the circle, my friends, or **you**."

He flinched as if she hit him. Marker, he still remembers that day as if it was yesterday. If that blood mage didn't try to escape with Lily, the Chantry's sister, then she would still be with him. How can he forget Azura falling to her knees begging Greagoir to not turn her tranquil for aiding her friend. She could barely speak through her sobbing as she begged the knight commander at his feet. And what did he do? He just stood there as Azura begged Greagoir. He didn't say anything! He just stood there and watched the woman he loved beg not only for her life but her humanity. **He just stood there!**

"Stop blaming yourself," her voice broke his thought. "You knew Greagoir wouldn't have listened to you."

Cullen shook his head and ran his hand through his blonde hair. "I still should have said something! I just stood there and watched like a coward. I was such a coward!" He nearly shouted at her reflection in the mirror.

"You were still young, Cullen. Stop blaming yourself." Her soft voice danced around his head. "I don't blame you for what happened."

"You should," he whispered and stared at his shaking hands. His hands gripped his hair as he desperately tried to calm his racing heart. He inhaled slowly and exhaled as slow as possible. When he looked back in the mirror Azura seemed to be closer than before, but still far away.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you when you saved the circle," he whispered. Marker, she may be real or she may not be but at least he can say this to her. He always wanted to tell her he was sorry for what he said to her. "I didn't mean what I said to you. I'm sorry, Azura."

When she found him he was a mess; he had been tortured for who knows how many days. The desire demons tried to trick him by shifting into her numerous times. The whispered meaningless promises of them escaping and starting a family together far away where they could be together and safe. Sometimes he just wanted to give in and go with them even if he knew it was an illusion. The desire demons reached into his sexual desires for her and tempted him with her body, her smell, everything he wanted but could never have. It was true torture.

Then, she came and it was truly her in the flesh. Her young face touched by the responsibility of the wardens and war. She was surrounded by companions as she tried to reach for him through the protective ward around him. He remembers how she pounded on the ward yelling his name over and over. Instead of thanking her, he yelled at her, belittled her, and called her a _monster_. He told her he couldn't believe he ever wanted to be with her. He grouped her with the mages who killed his friends and other mages who wouldn't join them. Even after she saved the First Enchanter, he didn't apology for what he said, instead he thought the surviving mages should have been killed. All mages were his enemy because they were monsters to them.

He didn't see her as Azura. He saw her as a mage: a monster.

How can he possibly forgive himself for seeing the hero of Ferelden a monster? How could he see the woman he _loved_ a monster? He held that hatred for mages for years even when he was in Kirkwall. He didn't learn his lesson until his own knight commander went mad with red lyrium.

"You were tortured Cullen," she spoke to him softly as he relived the events in his mind. "I was hurt by what you said, but I forgive you now."

He shook his head and made eye contact with the illusion of the woman he loved. Her moonlit eyes met his darkened honey ones. "No, you don't. You hate me."

“No Cullen,” her voice was hauntingly beautiful. It is laced with sadness and love: a sound he longed to hear from her but hated at the same time. Her hands touched her chest as she stared lovingly at him through the mirror. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Those three words felt like a dagger stabbed him right in the heart. His entire chest felt sore from the wound and it was hard to breathe. His closed his eyes tightly and his hand reached to the side for something :anything. His fingers touched the coldness of his goblet. He refused to open his eyes as his held the goblet in his hands. His heart was racing so fast under his chest he thought he would pass out any moment. The room felt like it was spinning around him. He gripped it in his hand and threw the goblet as hard as he could into the mirror. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces around him and he watched the shards of her fall to the ground. He fell to his knees and sob escaped him as he held his head in his hands; his hands gripping to his messy hair.

* * *

_"I lose, I lose_

_The dreams have been let loose"_


End file.
